


Better Left Unsaid (Or Not)

by ASimpleArchivist



Series: Your Prime, His Spark [3]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°), All the 'Bots are low-key concerned high-key not subtle about it, Blood, F/M, Female Reader, Fluff and Humor, Hello yes I'm still alive, I finally sat my procrastinating butt down and finished this, I tried to make it funny, It's Miko's birthday, Menstrual Cycles, Optimus is a sweetheart, Periods, Ratchet's the most chill about the whole situation honestly, Reader-Insert, Sorry it's several months late, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, and your uterus decides to join the party, at all, dfab!reader, fem!reader - Freeform, fluff and comfort, girl stuff, menstrual cramps, you're also starting to get blushi blushi around bossbot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-12
Updated: 2018-03-12
Packaged: 2019-03-30 10:35:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13949775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ASimpleArchivist/pseuds/ASimpleArchivist
Summary: You endure your cycle and attempt to hide it from Optimus. It would’ve been easier to have just told him to begin with.





	Better Left Unsaid (Or Not)

**Author's Note:**

> So, heh, this one's very self-indulgent, as I've had some pretty rough cycles in my day. And I find the 'Bots' almost assured obliviousness to female humans' biological intricacies to be hilarious - don't ask me why. So, cheers to chocolate ice cream, painkillers, and heating pads - and may your cramps not last you long! Sit back and enjoy the pamprin'. ;) Also, I'm kind of basing this off my own cycle, so I apologize if yours is considerably different. Everyone’s isn’t the same.  
> I’ve also realized that so far these oneshots have all ended in Optimus’ quarters. I promise you it’s not intentional and I didn’t notice it until now lol. Maybe it’ll become a recurrent thing.  
> There isn’t a particular episode/arc that I had in mind when writing this like the other two did, so it can just go wherever, I guess. But, if I were to actually put it in the timeline, I’d stick it just before “T.M.I.”.  
> NOTE: Jack referring to the California redwoods is a reference to the episode “Predatory”.

What a shitty day today had been.

You sighed in aggravation, anger simmering just beneath the surface as you slammed the front door shut and tossed your bookbag in the couch's general vicinity before making a beeline for the kitchen. Your stomach twisted painfully, and you scrutinized the contents of the fridge with an unforgiving eye. Curious about how shitty of a day you'd had? Let's recap.

Firstly, your phone had died some time in the night so, without your alarm, you'd accidentally overslept and had been late for school. Optimus had informed you the previous day that he would be on patrol so he hadn't been able to pick you up either, and you’d had to _run_ all the way to school whereas, if you’d woken up on time, you could’ve taken the trip on your sweet leisure.  Secondly, you'd spilled the entire contents of your bookbag in the first class transition (no thanks to the local bitch knocking you over) and had thus spent five extra minutes trying to keep other unsympathetic kids from stepping on your books and papers, which resulted in you being late for physics (and your teacher wasn't the most forgiving man). Thirdly, some asshole had stolen your lunch out of your locker (you’d forgotten to change the combination again), which forced you to eat the school cafeteria’s soggy, dripping fried catfish. Then you'd lost your economics report (probably when you'd had your spill that morning) and were now on your teacher’s bad side, which you had barely managed to avoid until now. She was ruthless and didn’t hesitate to humiliate you in front of the entire class (though you’d mostly gleaned sympathy from the nicer kids - most of them had been there at some point, too, and nobody liked her).

But that wasn’t the last of it - no, to top it all off, your stomach had started hurting like nobody's business after one o'clock and hadn’t ceased since. You had initially thought that the catfish was the cause of it. You’d _hoped_ the catfish was the cause of it. But it seemed the universe wasn’t through with you yet, because as you stood there pondering the pros and cons of subjecting your digestive system to a slice of three day old pizza, you felt another twinge of pain and a small gush of something hot and sticky between your legs.

 _Shit. Wonderful._ This was _just_ how you wanted the day to end and the weekend to start.

Resigning yourself to your fate, you breathed out slowly and trudged to your bathroom so you could freshen up. Gym class had also been noticeably unpleasant (squats were absolutely the bane of your existence, and your gym coach loved them for whatever God-awful reason). Stripping both your clothes and the woes of the day away, you stepped underneath the steaming hot water. It made you feel better almost immediately, your tense muscles relaxing under the steady stream as you set about cleaning yourself up. It was over too soon, unfortunately, but you knew you couldn’t stay in there forever. You stepped out and dried yourself off, slipping back into your bedroom. You shivered at the chill in the house and equipped a pad before donning your go-to comfy attire, consisting of sweatpants and an old shirt. After that, you decided (as your uterus twisted painfully) that you may as well pop a few painkillers so the cramps wouldn’t be so unbearable.

It was only when you were pulling out the tub of ice cream from your freezer and received a message on your phone that you remembered Optimus was going to pick you up after school. Heart thumping apprehensively in the hollow of your throat, you opened the text.

_Big Red: I have arrived._

Oh, shit. Ooh, _shit_. You couldn't be around Optimus like this - or any of the others, for that matter. _Especially_ the boys. Between how (s)mothering the Autobots could be and how you feared they would react to witnessing such a gross aspect of human biology (and _female_ biology, which made it that much worse in any male's mind, man _or_ mech - Arcee would probably be the only one unbothered by it because she didn’t usually flinch in the eye of the more cringey aspects of humans), you considered the option of just calling off the day and staying home. You could just say that you didn't feel well and leave it at that. They would understand, right?

Another ping from your phone drew your attention back to the screen.

_Big Red: I understand that it is Miko's day of birth tomorrow. You do recall that she is planning an overnight event at the base tonight, correct?_

That's right. Of course. With all the stupid shit that had happened that day, you'd completely forgotten everything else that was going on outside the campus. At least you'd had the foresight to buy her present in advance. That counted for something, right?

You grimaced, considering your options carefully. Miko had been so excited for the party. It was the first time Ratchet had actually acquiesced into letting you humans stay overnight - and you were pretty sure that Optimus had to work in a healthy dose of his good old diplomatic magic for it to have happened. It had taken all her willpower and then some to keep it on the down-low at school. As mischievous as she could be, you did respect her for being able to keep the Autobots' secret.

You sighed softly, slowly, resting your forehead against the fridge door and finally typing a response.

_‘Yeah, I remember. I had quite the day today and it slipped my mind. Just let me pack real quick and I'll be out there.’_

_Big Red: There is no hurry. Take your time._

You couldn't believe you were doing this. You nibbled your bottom lip, praying to Primus or God or whatever other deity that may have been out there that your flow wouldn't be too heavy this time (which of itself was futile, you knew - the first couple of days were always the worst).

It didn't take long to throw together all the stuff you needed to survive a night at the silo - clothes, toiletries, sanitary products - as well as carefully tucking the medium-sized box amongst the clothes to cushion it. You also grabbed a few movies and your makeup case in the event that Miko would want to play with it or for you to doll her up for the special occasion - not that she needed it, anyway. She already had eyelashes to die for.

After mentally reevaluating your inventory several times, you finally deemed yourself ready to go. You slung your bag over your shoulder, moving to open, close, and lock the front door behind you. You turned to the unoccupied street, quickly spotting the familiar red and blue semi idling down at the end of the block where the street broadened out to allow for more parking and maneuvering room. The Prime's paint job seemed to shimmer in the heat beating down from the heavens above, sympathizing an immediate sweat from your pores.

You grimaced, trotting quickly down the sidewalk. Optimus seemed to notice your approach, as when you reached out to grab at the handrail mounted on the side of his cab his passenger side door popped open. You breathed a sigh of relief as you crawled inside and felt the cool air from his air-conditioning unit flood over you, shutting the door quickly so it wouldn’t let any escape. You tucked your bag beneath the glove compartment before you sank back into the seat, pulling the seatbelt over your chest and tucking your thumbs beneath it so it didn't press against your navel.

"Hey, Optimus," you said, trying to sound cheerful.

"Are you all right?" he asked without pretense, startling you.

You blinked, wondering how in the world he'd managed to perceive something was off so quickly. "No, I'm fine," you assured him, shifting uncomfortably. "Just a bit sore."

He didn't respond right away, his engine remaining idle for a long moment. It cranked, finally, as he hummed quietly and pulled onto the street proper. "Are you certain? You seem to be in pain."

"It's nothing a couple of painkillers can't handle," you told him, patting the inside of his door. "Don't worry about it."

“If you insist,” he said slowly, though you could still detect the worry in his tone. After he made his way onto the main highway, he asked, “You made it seem as though your day wasn’t pleasant. Did something happen?”

“Boy, did _everything_ happen,” you groaned, letting your head fall back against the headrest as you sank into the firm cushioning. You relayed the misfortune you’d woken up to and had subsequently battled throughout the day, venting out the frustrations you’d felt. You carefully omitted coming home only to find out you’d started.

“You have my condolences. Are you still feeling ill?” the Prime inquired, referring to the rather unhealthy meal you’d been forced to ingest. “I am certain Nurse Darby would not mind seeing to you when she completes her shift.”

“Nah, it’s fine,” you said, resisting the urge to curl up into a pathetic, whimpering ball as a particularly horrid cramp began to draw your uterus up into a knot. _Come on, painkillers, hurry it up._ “I’ve had worse.”

Optimus hummed lowly. “I do not find that reassuring.”

“Look, Bossbot, I’m fine,” you assured him, trying not to become frustrated. He was only concerned and he always tended to be a bit persistent when it came to a team member not feeling well. You’d seen him act the same way with Ratchet multiple times. “Honestly. I would tell you if something was wrong.”

A lengthy silence passed and he seemed to consider your words carefully. You missed how his rearview mirror shifted angled towards you. Optimus finally ex-vented, barely audible under his engine and the roar of the asphalt beneath his tires as he exited the city limits. “...Very well. But please understand that if it worsens…”

“Got it,” you confirmed, smiling gently in the general vicinity of his steering wheel. It always touched you how intensely he cared and how wasn’t afraid to express it. “Don’t worry about me, Optimus. I’m okay, I promise.”

His engine rumbled in reply, and you sat comfortably in a companionable silence all the way to the silo. The change of temperature was immediate, when he cruised through the secret entrance - the cool air and familiar dark atmosphere was more than welcome after the day you’d had.

The main hangar was surprisingly unoccupied - Ratchet stood at his terminal, but it was otherwise empty. Optimus rolled to a stop and opened the door for you, and you grabbed your bag before carefully climbing out. You twisted a tad sharply when descending onto the foot ramp, hissing under your breath as pain lanced up your sides as a result. If Optimus noticed, he didn’t comment, and when you took a couple of steps away from him he transformed.

You could plainly see that his concern was still very much present in the subtle creases adorning his faceplate, around the corners of his optics and mouth. You offered him a smile, and you saw his shoulders relax minutely. Satisfied, you turned and made your way towards the mezzanine where the kids’ setup was. When you looked up from storing your bag away under the coffee table, Ratchet was staring at you with narrowed optics. You were vaguely aware of Optimus moving to stand a ways behind him.

Smiling tentatively, you straightened and gave him your full attention. “Hey, Ratchet. Everything okay?”

His mouth pursed slightly. “Did you hurt yourself?’

You blinked. “What?”

“You heard me,” the medic groused, rolling his optics. “Did you hurt yourself?”

“Uh...no…? I did squats in gym today, but that was about it,” you told him, confused. “Why?”

“Hm.” He turned back to the console, resuming his clacking at the keyboard. “Just curious. You seem to be moving slower than usual.”

“Oh,” you said, sitting on the end of the couch closest to him. “Yeah, just the squats then. I think my coach has it out for me.” You glanced around the suspiciously quiet hangar. “Where are the others?”

“Bulkhead took Miko joyriding,” Ratchet responded absently. “Jack and Arcee are getting ‘pizza’, and Bumblebee went to fetch Raf.”

“He isn’t out of school yet?” you wondered aloud.

“He had chores,” Ratchet told you. “He also said he had to wrap Miko’s gift.”

“Ah.” You paused, then frowned. “Did anyone say anything about setting up for the party?”

The medic scoffed. “That’s what they’re _doing_ , isn’t it?”

“I...suppose so.” You shifted on the couch cushion, gritting your teeth as another painful cramp made itself known. You grumbled under your breath, letting your head fall back and rest against the back of the cushion. “What I wouldn’t give for a warm bed right about now.”

“Are you tired?” Optimus asked somewhere above you, and when you opened your eyes you jumped when you realized he was looming over you. You’d never been able to figure out how he moved around so quietly. (Maybe it had to do with the fact he had been a librarian so very, very long ago, your brain supplied. But then again, it might’ve been due to the fact that he’d been at war for God knows how long - stealth was something necessary for survival.)

“Like I said,” you assured him, offering him a weary smile, “it’s been a long day.”

Optimus’ expression didn’t change, but his optics shuttered briefly in what you’d learned to be deep thought. Ratchet harrumphed quietly, shaking his helm, and you heard him mumble something under his breath before the distant groan of the entryway door cranked itself open. The familiar sustained growl of a motorcycle engine accompanied by the throaty rumble of a muscle car told you who’d arrived even before they appeared around the bend.

Optimus stepped to the side to face the new arrivals, and you perked up when Raf clambered out of Bumblebee’s backseat absolutely vibrating with excitement, valiantly attempting to carry a brightly-wrapped box larger than two of him combined. The yellow scout transformed and watched the boy with equal enthusiasm in his body language, his doorwings fluttering as he bounced back and forth on his pedes and chirped.

Jack, after dismounting from Arcee who transformed when he was a safe distance away, was quick to slide off his helmet and step over to the smaller boy while trying himself to hold on to the three large boxes of pizza he’d acquired. “Whoa, Raf,” he said, laughing, “you need a hand?”

“No, I’ve got it,” the boy chirped, toddling towards the mezzanine and you. The rims of his glasses were barely visible as he tried to peer over the edge of the box. “Thank you, though.”

“What do you have there, little man?” you called down to him.

He looked up at you with a grin. “Miko’s present,” he said simply, and trotted up the steps. Jack wasn’t far behind him, meeting your gaze with an amused and curious look.

“What did you get her?” you asked, standing and meeting him as he reached the top. You offered to take the box from him with open palms, but he merely shook his head and placed it on the old rickety coffee table. Jack did the same with the pizza boxes.

“You’ll see,” he said, mischievousness glinting in his eyes. You couldn’t help but grin in return as you moved and reclaimed your previous seat on the couch - the boy’s enthusiasm had always been infectious and it delighted you so to see him come out of his shell.

“Please tell me it won’t make a mess,” Jack groaned, tossing his helmet into the recliner before sinking into the opposite side of the couch. “I know she was talking about chemistry recently.”

“It...shouldn’t,” Raf said tentatively, giving the both of you a vaguely worried look. “Unless she decides to turn it into a mess.”

“Joy,” the three of you heard Ratchet mutter.

“What about you, Jack?” you asked, glancing over the teen. “You remembered, right?”

“Of course!” he said, mock offended. “You think I’d forget with how much she’s been chattering about this? I thought we were never going to hear the end of it.”

“She’s turning fifteen, what do you expect?” you asked him with a quirked smile. “You only get to have one quinceanera.”

Jack gave you a flat look. “She’s Japanese.”

“You’re Korean,” you shot back playfully.

“I’m Italian,” Raf offered.

The three of you exchanged a look before busting out into laughter.

Rolling her optics, Arcee stepped into view, along with a still exuberant Bumblebee. “You’re human, that’s all that matters,” she said, and looked as though she was going to add something else when she suddenly went stiff. Her optics widened and trained on you, mouth slightly agape. She looked as though she’d seen a ghost, horrified and apprehensive.

Jack noticed it immediately. “Uhh...Arcee? You okay?”

The two-wheeler blinked, tearing her gaze from you and looking at Jack like a deer caught in the headlights. She shook her helm quickly, her vents catching and venting audibly as she purposefully redirected her attention away from whatever it was that had caught it in the first place. You were seriously starting to worry that you had smeared your makeup or something because when you glanced at Bumblebee, even he looked a little uneasy, if how his doorwings were drooping and his optics were spiraled into narrow circles was any indication.

“Fine,” she said finally, turning and swiftly making her way towards Optimus and Ratchet, who had gathered around the main computer terminal and were discussing an unintelligible topic in hushed, low tones. “I’m fine, don’t...don’t worry about it.”

Bumblebee whirred in uncertainty, glancing between you and her, before joining her with a nervous flick of his doorwings.

“That...was weird,” Jack said slowly, giving you a bewildered look. “Is something wrong?”

“I don’t think so,” you began hesitantly. Had you done something to offend the ‘Bots? “Is there anything on my face?”

“No,” Raf said. “That’s really unusual of Bee just to…” He shook his head. “Nevermind.”

“Raf,” you pressed warily, “what did he say?”

The boy regarded you inquisitively. “He just said ‘she’s acting like she’s fine’. What’s that supposed to mean?” He gave you a worried look. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you were quick to assure. “It’s not like I’m sick or anything. I’m just sore from gym, and lunch was terrible.”

Jack gave you a sympathetically flat glance. “Was yours missing from your locker, too?”

“Oh my god, you, too?” you exclaimed. “Who is it that’s doing that?”

“I don’t know,” the dark haired teen groaned, “but whoever it is, they’ve got too much power. I think they know every locker combination in the school.”

You sighed. “A mystery for another day. Have you guys heard from M-”

The rev of a throaty ATV engine cut off your thought, and as though having spoken of the devil herself Bulkhead - and, subsequently, Miko - came barrelling around the corner, shriek metal thumping heavily within the ex-Wrecker’s cab as he veered to a stop. Miko leapt from the passenger’s seat, belting out a garble of incomprehensible Bulgarian and making a massive show with a nonexistent electric guitar.

“Happy birthday!” you called down to her, smiling fondly as she perked up and grinned up at the three of you. Bulkhead transformed while she sprinted headlong for the mezzanine, casting her a smile of his own before moving to join the other Autobots. You noticed that he stalled in a stride, his helm tilting upwards as his mouth parted slightly, before he shook his helm and continued on his way.

You were honestly starting to get a little creeped out. What on Earth was going on?

“Hey, guys!” Miko bubbled, nearly bowling Raf over as she armed him up and spun him around in a tight hug. “What’d you get me?”

“I don’t know how it works in Japan,” you started with a smirk, “but we don’t tell you what we’ve gotten you. You just have to wait and find out.”

The girl groaned impatiently, sinking dramatically to the floor. “And when will _that_ be?”

“Hmm…” You stroked your chin playfully, considering. “...maybe after we’ve eaten. Then we can roll out the cots and do whatever you want. Movies, makeup, et cetera. It _is_ your birthday, after all.” You lit up. “Maybe we can get Arcee to tell us ghost stories again.”

Jack shuddered on reflex. “No thanks.”

“Aww, come on, Jack!” Miko chirped, bouncing up and giving him a light punch in the shoulder before settling in between the both of you and making herself quite comfortable. “Where’s your sense of adventure?”

“I left it back in the California redwoods,” Jack deadpanned, letting his head fall back and rest on the couch. “I don’t know how you can just run headlong into certain death.”

“I haven’t died yet, have I?” Miko grinned wickedly. “And I always have one of the ‘Bots to back me up, right?”

You sighed softly and shook your head, knowing that something would eventually have to be done to convince Miko that she wasn’t as immortal as she thought she was, and that the Autobots wouldn’t always be able to be there whenever she decided to go marching into danger. For now, though, it was time to celebrate the fact that she’d made it thus far.

With a quick glance at the pizza boxes and remembering that you’d forgotten to grab any paper plates, you groaned a little and stood. Fortunately, the pain that twinged your abdomen wasn’t as strong as it was before, so the pain killers must’ve finally been kicking in.

“I’ll go grab the plates,” you told them, already headed towards the stairwell. “Go ahead and put on a movie or something.”

“Sure thing,” Jack said, moving to crouch in front of the old television and VCR set and rummaging through his backpack. Raf settled on the couch, pulling his laptop seemingly out of nowhere and beginning to type studiously. Miko bounced in anticipation, watching as Jack pulled out several different tapes and held them up for her to see.

As you reached the floor you saw the Autobots grouped closely around one another, seemingly engrossed in an intense discussion. You caught sight of Optimus, who had turned his helm to look at you. His optical ridges rose minutely when your eyes locked and he turned his helm back to the others, but you didn’t miss the worry deep in his optics.

Either you were a very bad liar or the Matrix allowed for him to have some level of telepathy.

Your stomach sank and you tore your gaze away. You hated having to lie to the ‘Bots - Optimus in particular, because he’d always been honest and up-front with you - but this was just one thing that you figured would be better left unsaid. Most _humans_ couldn’t handle the grossness involved in menstrual cycles - how would robotic beings basically in the dark about human biological processes, and who had already made it clear they found organics’...squishiness to be revolting (or at least in Ratchet’s case), take it?

Not well, you figured. They’d probably vomit, if they had the capacity to.

Yes, it was better that this little situation of yours go unaddressed, as much as you hated lying to their faces. You’d just have to make a convincing argument on why you feel like shit.

_...Easier said than done. Much, much easier said than done._

* * *

“Okay, we’ve eaten - let’s open presents already!”

You chuckled lightly and leaned over to zip your bag open as Jack fished his wallet out of his back pocket. Seeing as his had been sitting there looking at her thus far, Miko lunged for Raf’s and pulled it into her lap.

“I know you’ve been talking about it,” the boy began, a little nervousness seeping into his tone as she tore off the ribbon and began to pull at the wrapping paper, “so I hoped that this might-”

Miko squealed as soon as she saw the front of the box, and you inwardly cringed as you identified the gift as a chemistry set. Flashbacks to junior year began to flicker behind your eyes, and you shuddered at the memory of a stench that would never truly leave your memory. Stink bombs were the _worst_.

“Thank you, thank you, _thank you!_ ” She wriggled excitedly in her seat before leaping up and hugging the poor bespectacled boy tightly, nearly strangling him in the process. She drew back with a maniacal grin, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “You’ll help me figure it all out, right?”

“Yeah, of course!” Raf laughed, sinking back into the couch as she retreated to the recliner.

Jack was next, thumbing open his wallet and going to draw something out of the cash slot. Miko gave him an unimpressed pout, folding her arms over her thin chest. “You didn’t get me a giftcard to KO Burger, did you?”

Jack rolled his eyes, instead pulling out two slips of white paper. “No, no. I’m not that cheap. In fact...these are worth just a tad more than my regular paycheck.”

Miko took the slips of paper warily, giving him a narrow-eyed, suspicious look, before her eyes fell on the text printed on them. Her jaw dropped comically, eyes in considerable danger of falling out of her head as a sound not quite human escaped her throat. You offered Jack a high-five and he accepted it with a grin, watching as Miko slowly lifted her astonished stare back up to him.

“You...Slash Monkey? _Tokyo?_ ” she managed, shock evident in every inch of her body.

Jack shrugged. “Raf kept an eye on their next tour for me, I just provided the cash. I used Bulkhead’s holoform ID for the second one so he could take you - I _figured_ ,” he began, calling pointedly over his shoulder past the collection of Autobots looming over the mezzanine towards the white and red mech making himself busy at his console, “that Ratchet could afford you a simple groundbridge there and back.”

There was a distinct scoff from said medic, but there wasn’t a refusal. This made Miko’s eyes absolutely light up.

“And, well...I figured you could pop in and visit your parents if you wanted to. You know, if you can come up with a good cover story,” Jack added, but he was scarcely able to finish his sentence before the Japanese girl lunged at him with a rushed garble of gratitude as she hugged him and nearly knocked him over the back of the couch.

“Jeez, man,” you joked, finally fishing your box out of your bag, “I’m hard-pressed to live up to that, but...I guess you could use this while you’re there.”

Miko, only seeming to be even more excited by your choice of words, squeezed between you and Jack before ripping into the box. Her eyes went wide again and she was once more at a loss for words, fingertips tracing the picture of a camera printed on the face of the box before she just gave you a genuine, heartwarming smile of gratitude before looping her arms around your sides and hugging you remarkably more gently than she had the boys. You returned it fondly, patting her back gently and offering to open it with Jack’s pocket knife in your other hand.

“I tried picking out the best one out of what I can afford,” you explained, “but even then this was one of the best ones. And it has a chip in it for your computer - it makes it a heck of a lot easier printing pictures. Just make sure to be careful with the pictures of the ‘Bots - hard evidence of their existence can be dangerous.”

“I always use the ones with their holoforms,” she whispered, and you were taken aback to see her eyes misting over. She grinned, sniffling and rubbing at her eyes sheepishly. “Thanks, guys, really...you really didn’t have to…”

“Now don’t you even finish that thought,” you scolded with a smile, ruffling her hair affectionately. “Of course we had to. You’re our lead guitarist - you deserve to be spoiled every so often, even if you have a tendency to get into trouble.”

“Yeah,” Jack agreed. “I mean, you’re the one who convinced me to come back. I wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for you, and...I’m really glad you did.”

“You saved my life,” Raf offered with a shy smile. “And you always make me feel better if I’ve had a bad day at school.”

Miko absorbed each of your words for a long moment before letting out a wet but delighted laugh and arming all three of you up into a group hug. You heard Bulkhead and Bumblebee let out simultaneous ‘aaw’s, one in English and the other in Cybertronian binary, though it didn’t take away from the effect. You caught Arcee looking on with a tender, subtle smile, and further still Optimus’ optics seemed to be glowing brighter than you’d ever seen them. He had the look of a proud father, and the absolute warmth of it was contagious - you felt your insides melt and you hid your burning face into the mass of bodies next to you.

“Alright,” Jack said, laughing under his breath as he pulled away. “Enough of the schmaltz. We’ve got a movie to finish.”

Bumblebee whirred in what must’ve been agreement while Miko leaned forward and grabbed the remote, setting the movie to play again; despite this, her attention was on your careful movements. You sliced the tape lining the box, finally popping it open and pulling off the slab of protective foam free. The camera and its accessories shined in the hangar’s lighting, and Miko carefully lifted the camera up and eyed it in awe.

“I hope you like it,” you said tentatively, “I didn’t know if it was any good or not - you’re more savvy in this kind of stuff than I am.”

“No, it’s perfect,” she whispered, leaning into your side and resting her head against your arm. “Thank you. Really.”

You settled back into the couch and let her rest against you, vague memories of doing so with your mother when you were younger flickering in the back of your mind. You yawned and rested your chin in your hand, paying half of your attention to the movie and the rest to Miko as she fiddled with the camera with utmost care, almost as though she was afraid she would break it. You felt fondness for the troublesome girl bubble up within you - for as many faults as Miko had, she did have a sweet side; she just tended to hide it behind her rambunctious nature and pursuit of adventure.

Filled with pizza, sleepy from the long day, and content surrounded by your makeshift, dysfunctional family, you let your head fall back and your eyes rest.

* * *

“I hate to be the party pooper,” you began as the credits to the third movie in a row began to roll, “but I think it’s about high time I collapse. You guys don’t look like you’re doing much better.”

Raf was in the midst of a yawn before you’d even spoken, and Jack already looked as if he was half asleep. Miko was valiantly trying to keep her eyes open but she was rapidly failing.

“Agreed,” the dark haired teen mumbled, sinking from the couch onto the cot nearest him. While taking a quick bathroom break between the second and third film, you’d went ahead and grabbed the cots out of the supplies closet and laid them out.

Jack fumbled with his bag, pulling out a pillow and blanket and curling up. You laughed softly and stood, nudging him in the side with your foot. “What kind of a teenager are you? Can’t even stay up past one.”

“God, it’s _one?_ ” he groaned, burying his face into the pillow. “I have first shift tomorrow.”

“You should’ve thought of that before you brought so many movies,” you teased.

“Uh-oh,” Miko said. You turned as she pulled her bag apart. “I forgot to grab a blanket.”

“Me, too,” Raf admitted abashedly.

“No problem; I saw some spare ones in the closet,” you said, stretching languidly before heading towards the stairwell. “I’ll go grab them.”

“Thanks,” both of them mumbled, and you smiled fondly.

“I’ll be back in a jiff!” you called, and hurried down the stairs. You didn’t mind running so many errands (coincidentally to the same place), but you were tired yourself and you were looking forward to collapsing. But...you also needed a shower. Badly. You felt grimy and sticky and all around gross...you wondered if the silo had washracks anywhere.

Surely they did. If they had barracks for the personnel who used to work there, then they had to have had showers, right? You wondered if any of the ‘Bots new where they were. Ratchet probably did, since he spent the most time in the silo. But would he bother to have looked at the schematics so closely?

Oh, well. If nothing else, you could look for them yourself. It wouldn’t take that long, right?

You were able to get the extra blankets with marginal ease, with the help of a precariously placed crate beneath a shelf high above your head. The heavy quilts were dusty but dry, and after you’d shook them out they were fine. The trek back to the hangar was difficult, considering they were huge and you only had a limited amount of arms’ length to carry them, but you did end up stumbling upon the washracks after poking your head through a few doors you’d never explored before. Happy and ready to relax under hopefully hot water, you returned to mezzanine only to find all three of the kids fast asleep. None of the ‘Bots were in the hangar, which surprised you. They’d been killing about in the background last you’d checked, but now they were gone without a trace. Even Ratchet wasn’t at his usual station messing around on the main computer terminal.

Despite this, you smiled softly, stifling a chuckle as you quietly went around and laid the quilts over each of them. Thankfully, they didn’t stir, and you were able to grab your bag and retreat just as quietly to the washracks. The ‘Bots had probably gone to bed and hadn’t wanted to disturb the kids, so you didn’t worry about it too much. If it’d been something important they would’ve come found you and informed you of the situation.

It was blessedly quiet in the corridor, and subsequently the long room constructed with shower stalls from wall to wall. After you flicked on the light and secured the door shut behind you (it didn’t have a lock, unfortunately, but that made sense given it was meant for more than one person), you slipped off your shoes and shivered when your bare feet made contact with the cold concrete of the base’s floor. It was a bit chilly in the room, but you’d expected that.

You rummaged around in your bag and drew out your spare clothes and the necessary toiletries and set them on one of the sinks lining the opposite wall. The long mirror was old and dusted over and cracked in a few places, but it afforded you a good enough reflection to realize you didn’t look very good. Your hair was already oily again and you looked tired from your lack of sleep the previous night (you’d tossed and turned because of your sore lower back and had been too stubborn to get up and take painkillers). No wonder the ‘Bots seemed so concerned about you, you definitely didn’t look like yourself.

You sighed and stripped, quickly moving to turn on one of the showers as you shivered. It took a few moments for water to actually come through, and it startled you when the showerhead sputtered to life in a frenzy. The water was freezing, but after a long minute it began to get lukewarm but no more. Settling for what you had, you went ahead and scrubbed yourself clean. The warmth of the water only lasted a few minutes, however, and you made quick work of turning it off and briskly toweling yourself off to get warm again. Dressing yourself in the soft night clothes you’d packed, you toweled up your hair and brushed your teeth before picking up your stuff and flicking off the light. Taking care to shut the door with minimal noise, you turned to the hall before-

“Holy shit!” you gasped, heart jumping up into your throat and your hand slapping over your chest on reflex. Your bag landed on the floor with a heavy thump.

Five sets of vivid blue optics blinked down at you, illuminating the grim and worried expressions on each of the Autobots’ faces.

“Why won’t you tell us what’s wrong?” Bulkhead began with a genuinely hurt tone that made your heart twist.

“What?” you asked, swallowing and trying to calm the rapid thumping against the inside of your chest cavity. “What’re you talking about?”

“ _Primus_ ,” Ratchet groused, frustration seeping into his tone as he stressed your name, “the blood! You’ve been bleeding but you won’t admit you’ve been hurt!”

You froze, apprehension chilling your innards. _How did they…?_

They only seemed to take it as confirmation. Bumblebee whistled and whirred, optical ridges drawn back into the most heart wrenching imitation of a kicked puppy you’d ever seen.

Arcee nodded in agreement to whatever he’d said. “We started to think someone hurt you and you didn’t want to tell us because you were ashamed or embarrassed - which is ridiculous, by the way; hiding a wound because of pride can wind up with you killed.”

“And the fact that you’ve very obviously been in pain for the duration of this evening,” Ratchet added, the fiery light of protectiveness in his optics taking the edge off of the bite in his words, “along with all the secrecy, we…”

“We feared the worst,” Optimus finished, his low, neutral rumble almost succeeding in disguising what his expression and body language could not. He was tense and his optics were sharp with attention that made you feel so very, very small pinned beneath it.

You stared at them for the longest, tensest, most awkward moment of your life. Dear God, they thought...what, that you were dying? Hiding a wound?

“Oh my god,” you mumbled, dropping your burning face into your hands and wishing more than anything you’d wished for in your life that you were anywhere but there. “Guys, I’m not…” You took a breath, resigning yourself to the duty of resolving this horrid misunderstanding. “I’m not hurt.”

Ratchet’s plating flared up like a ruffled bird and he opened his mouth to contradict you, as did Arcee, but you made it a point to direct a patient, pleading look at the both of them. They settled, begrudgingly.

“I _am_ hurting, yes, and I’ll admit that it’s not entirely the squats.” _Here we go._ “...I’m on my cycle.”

You were met with five blank, puzzled looks.

You stared at them, realization crashing into you with the force of a brick wall. “You don’t…you don’t know what I’m talking about…” You sighed heavily, taking a step back and sliding to the floor, leaning against the wall and gesturing for the five Cybertronians to do the same. “You may as well sit down, we’re going to be here a while.”

Ratchet was quick to demand an explanation. “Why?”

“Do you want me to explain or not?” you shot back, meeting his intense stare head-on. His mouth twisted before he scoffed and acquiesced. The others did so, though more confusedly. Optimus remained standing until you regarded him with a silent ‘please?’. He slowly and carefully sat, taking up more than half of the massive corridor with his legs alone.

It was a rather amusing sight, honestly - five massive ‘Bots all crowded together in a comparatively tiny corridor not big enough for even two of them to stand shoulder-to-shoulder. They were all being very wary not to bump into each other but, in a way, it was kind of sweet how at ease they seemed to be so close in each others’ presence. There wasn’t an ounce of discomfort in any of them.

“Okay, let’s clear this up,” you began. “First of all, I’m not dying.”

A quiet, collective ex-vent of relief passed through the assemblage of Autobots.

You continued, “I _am_ in a lot of pain right now, but it’s not because I’m injured.”

“You’ve said that already,” Ratchet said impatiently. “What’s a ‘cycle’?”

“I don’t know if you guys have a biological equivalent,” you started slowly, “but it has to do with our reproductive systems.”

Bulkhead and Bumblebee looked instantaneously uneasy. Despite this, you pressed on. “Human females have a uterus, or womb, or whatever you want to call it. It’s where we carry our babies until they’re at full development. Attached to the uterus are two organs called ovaries, which contain all the egg cells a woman will have for her entire life.”

“ _You_ _lay_ _eggs?!_ ” Bulkhead exclaimed, optics growing bigger around than tires.

You made a face and let out a short, incredulous laugh. “ _No_ , we don’t lay eggs. We’re viviparous. You know - mammalian?”

Ratchet and Optimus were the only ones who even looked like they vaguely understood what you were saying, nodding along as you spoke, so you decided to elaborate for the others.

“We have cells that’re _called_ egg cells, but they’re not actual eggs like oviparous animals lay - birds and fish and a few others. Most animals, actually, when you look at ratio. Viviparous just means we give live birth to our young.” You cleared your throat. “Anyway. One egg cell travels from either ovary through a little tube that we have called fallopian tubes to the uterus, where it sits and waits to be fertilized for about four weeks. If it hasn’t been fertilized by the end of that time, the uterus decides that, to ensure maximum fertility and to increase the woman’s chances of becoming pregnant, it releases the egg, and the lining that cushions it has to be sloughed off with it. I think the lining is just basically super enriched blood from what I’ve heard? It has lots of nutrients and stuff to help a fetus develop if you get pregnant. But since the egg gets old I guess the lining gets old, too, so our bodies just do away with it in one fell swoop and start fresh every month.”

“That’s…terrible.” Ratchet said slowly. “But where does the pain come in?”

“To make sure the egg cell and the blood is sloughed off, the uterus uses contractions. We call them cramps, and they’re literally the spawn of Satan.” You shrugged. “Sometimes the cramps are so bad you get nauseous or can’t even stand up. I read somewhere that the reason cramps hurt so bad is because our uteruses literally suffocate themselves trying to contract. Our hormones run rampant at this time, and it affects pretty much everything - we get a lot more emotional, and it affects our eating and sleeping. We also tend to hold water, and we get sore in our lower backs because our pelvises shift. Symptoms like this vary from girl to girl, but it’s the general consensus that it sucks.” (You decided to leave out the part about your breasts hurting, too, for your own sake. You were embarrassed enough as it was.)

They all looked at you, completely shocked. Bumblebee chirped something, and Arcee translated for him. “And you deal with this every month?”

“Give or take. Sometimes your body skips out a cycle, but then the next one is absolute hell because it’s having to catch up.”

“How long do these cycles usually last?” Ratchet inquired.

“It ranges from three to seven days for most people,” you told him. “I envy the lucky few who only have theirs for three days...though I guess it’d be worse for them, since it’d be packed into a shorter amount of time.”

“So...wait, just...back it up.” Bulkhead’s optics were squeezed shut and he looked like he was warding off the urge to vomit. (Could Cybertronians vomit?) “So you’re saying that when you start becoming an adult, you do this every four weeks?”

“For the most part, yes. Some women are infertile, or don’t even have a menstrual cycle, but that’s extremely rare.”

“Do you do this for the rest of your lives?” Arcee asked.

“No. When you hit fifty or sixty you go through menopause, which is basically your reproductive system shutting down. It’s not fun, either, from what I understand.”

“Your insides tear themselves apart consistently, you undergo extreme hormonal fluctuations, and are under constant pain,” Ratchet began, “and you’re expected to function as though everything were normal?”

You paused, looking up at him with wide eyes. “Uhh...yeah? I mean, some girls call in sick because theirs are so bad, but generally I deal with mine.”

“That’s irrational!” the medic snapped, ire flaring to life in his optics. “If those symptoms happened to a Cybertronian, that would be cause for great medical concern! You’d be put in a hospital immediately!”

“So I’m assuming you guys don’t do this?” you asked, looking to Arcee, who shook her helm slowly. “You’re very, very lucky, girl. Appreciate it.”

Optimus, who’d been quiet until that point, spoke up softly. “You’ve been in pain this entire evening?”

Seeing the look in his optics, you dropped your gaze guiltily and fiddled with the hem of your shirt. “Yeah, but the painkillers kicked in a while ago. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I just...I didn’t figure you’d want to know.”

“And why not?” Bulkhead asked, aghast.

You stared at him. “Because it’s gross? Guys never want to hear about it because they’re squeamish.”

“It’s not ‘gross’,” Ratchet remarked, raising in incredulous optical ridge.

“You don’t think it is?” you asked, eyes wide.

“It’s alien to a mechanical race like ourselves,” the medic said, “but no. Cybertron interacted with organic species before, so something like this isn’t unusual. It shouldn’t be considered as something distateful to your species if it’s a core aspect of your biology.”

You stared at him in shock. Your eyes stung, and you sighed with a soft smile. “Yeah, it’s pretty dumb. But it’s just something we live with.”

“Do you require anything?” Optimus rumbled. “There are stores in Jasper that are open late.”

You blinked, then gave him a grateful smile and shook your head. “No, I don’t need anything right now. I’m okay.”

“You’re most definitely not okay,” Ratchet grumbled. “You should’ve stayed home and rested - that ought to be very taxing on your body.”

“So is dealing with Miko,” Arcee added, smirking when Bulkhead gave her an offended ‘hey!’

You laughed. “No, guys, really - thank you for the offer, but I’m fine.” You paused, then added sincerely, “But if I need anything I’ll be sure to let you know.”

Appeased, Optimus dipped his helm. The others rose to their pedes and bade you goodnight, wishing you well as they passed you and headed towards their quarters. As they walked away, suddenly Buklhead froze and turned on a dime, optics wide and bright in the dark. "Wait - does this mean Miko goes through this?!"

Arcee smacked his spinal strut and murmured something that sounded scolding before he turned back around and grumbled under his breath. Ratchet lingered as Optimus stood and spoke to him in a hushed tone, before looking down at you.

“Please wait here,” he said, and both he and the medic went the opposite way towards the hangar. Bemused but obedient, you did as he’d requested.

About five minutes passed before Optimus returned, lowering himself to one knee and holding out an open servo. Without prompt, you crawled into it with your bag and settled against his digits. He began to walk down the hall towards the barracks, and you chewed on your lip for a long moment.

“I’m sorry I lied to you,” you murmured finally, shame bringing heat to your cheeks. “I just didn’t figure you’d want to know.”

“Anything regarding your wellbeing is my concern, but I understand why you had reservations against informing me,” he told you, giving you a forgiving look. “If it is taboo in your culture to share this information, then I apologize for pushing it. We were simply worried you’d been hurt and weren’t tending to it.”

“No, it’s not taboo, you just generally don’t talk about it with other people unless they’re your family or girlfriends.” Your face scrunched up in confusion. “But...how’d you know?”

His optics focused on you but a thought struck you quicker than he could respond. Horrified mortification flooded over you, and your face felt like it was on fire. “Oh my god, I didn’t bleed on your seat did I?! I am so, so sorry if I did, I didn’t mean to-”

“You did not,” he was quick to assure you, his soothing tone relaxing you almost immediately. “But the scent was rather potent. I was concerned it was a large wound.”

You froze. You stared. You blinked. Finally, you gave him the most confounded look he’d ever seen. “But you guys _don’t have noses!_ ”

He blinked. He then tilted his helm, the slightest quirk appearing at the corner of his mouth. “Simply because we do not have outward olfactory sensors doesn’t mean we don’t have an olfactory sense at all. Ours are actually much more acute than humans’.”

Embarrassment returned ten-fold, and you buried your face in your hands. “ _Jeez_ , I...I didn’t even think...”

“Agent Fowler had a similar revelation through a different circumstance,” Optimus said. “But there is no need to be ashamed. As Ratchet said, it’s a normal biological function, and it’s not as though you have a say in your body’s natural routine.” He paused, then gave you a subtly pleading look. “If something like this should arise in the future, please reconsider before deciding against confiding in me. I only want to ensure your wellbeing, and I cannot do that if you refuse to inform me what is wrong.”

You nodded and stroked the length of his palm next to you with yours, barely able to meet his optics. “I will. I’m sorry I kept it from you. I just didn’t know how you’d react, and I was afraid you’d think I was disgusting or something.”

“While it is unfamiliar in contrast to my own frame and its components, I do not find it revolting at all.” His optical ridges furrowed slightly. “I only wish that you would not have to endure such difficulties. Have you been keeping yourself hydrated?”

You raised a brow before laughing a little. “Not really. Why?”

“There’s evidence that being hydrated reduces the severity of the ‘cramps’, as you called them,” he said. “Would you like for me to fetch you some?’

“No,” you assured him with a flattered smile. “No, I’ll be all right for tonight. I’m tired.”

The Prime dipped his helm, leaving the matter be as he reached his quarters and entered. He set you down on the corner of the berth before settling down himself, reclining on his back and opening his other servo only to reveal a clutch of blankets. You watched in surprise as he arranged them into a makeshift bed on his chassis before looking to you and offering an open servo again.

“What’s all this about?” you asked him as you climbed into his palm and held onto his thumb for support.

“Heat also helps soothe the pain, from what I understand,” he said, depositing you on the mass of blankets.

“What, did you look it up on the internet?” you joked, but when his optics brightened and flicked away your face lit up. “Aww, Optimus…you’re too sweet.”

He reset his vocalizer, and you didn’t miss how his cooling fans kicked on to a soft whirr barely audible over the hum of his sparkchamber beneath you. “It is only right that you be properly looked after while you endure this time,” he said. His helm rested back on the berth beneath him, and you almost missed the subtle smile at the corners of his optics. “If you have need of anything whenever your cycles begin, please, never hesitate to inform me.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you said, smiling and feeling your face warm. You curled up and arranged the edges of the blankets into a makeshift pillow, laying on your side and pulling another blanket over you to keep warm. He’d brought enough that you couldn’t actually feel the hard, unyielding metal of his windshield plating beneath you, but when you heard and felt his engine rumble softly the blankets began to warm. You buried your face into the blankets and tried to hide your burning cheeks and uncontrollable smile.


End file.
